Alternity
by Project Alternity
Summary: The main storyline for Project Alternity. Rated PG for themes and darkness.
1. Prologue: One Simple Choice

Prologue: One Simple Choice  
by Slytherin Dragon  
  
A cheery fire blazed in the fireplace of the little cottage nestled away in Godric's Hollow. Inside, it was a typical evening in the Potter household: quiet and happy. Lily Potter held her infant son Harry close to her body, singing him a lullaby in a sweet, smooth voice. James sat nearby, pretending to read but in reality simply enjoying his wife's song.  
  
Suddenly, he jerked his head up, looking around wildly. Lily broke off her lullaby, and Harry burbled in baby protest. "What is it, James?" Lily asked, looking around as well. "What's wrong?"  
  
James looked at her solemnly. "It's him, Lily. He's found us...."  
  
"But the Fidelius-"  
  
"We've been betrayed. Take Harry and go."  
  
"James-"  
  
The door blew open, shattering into hundreds of splinters. James took out his wand, face fixed in determination as a figure moved forward to be silhouetted in the doorway. "Take Harry and go," he repeated. "I'll hold him here."  
  
Lily's face was bloodless. "No, James, I won't. I'll help you-"  
  
The figure laughed, an eerie, high-pitched sound that had no humor in it, only cruelty. "Oh... such a touching display...." It laughed again. "There is no running from me, no escape!" The laugh became a sort of invisible force swirling around the cottage on a black wind, drowning out the crackle of the still-blazing fire and whipping the figure's black cloak around. "You know who I am, you know what I want... give in, give up!"  
  
Lily clutched her baby closer to her chest. Baby Harry awoke with a cry, angry about being held so tightly and unaccustomed to the noise of the black wind and laughter. "Never!" she screamed, then turned to run.  
  
The figure threw its head back, laughing uproariously, then glided to follow. James leaped into its path, brandishing his wand. "That's as far as you go!" he snarled. "Expecto-"  
  
The figure stopped laughing, made a gesture with one shrouded hand. James's wand flew across the room into the fire, where it burned and turned the fire brilliant crimson. "Now, now... what sort of way is that to treat a *guest*, dear Prongs?" The figure reached out and cupped James's face in both skeletal hands. "You've been quite rude, you know," it said in an almost playful tone. "You'll have to be punished...."  
  
James shook his head, struggling futilely. Let Lily be all right, he prayed fervently, let her have taken Harry far away! A faint scrambling sound could be heard over the repeated laughter and the wind. She wasn't out yet, not yet. "No..." he moaned, hoping to extend the time he had left to help Lily get away.  
  
"Oh, yes." A mouth hidden behind a black cowl curved into a cold, anticipatory smile. "Burn."  
  
In less than thirty seconds, there was nothing left of James Potter but a smoldering heap of ash. The figure laughed again, renewing the swirling sound into a cacophony of voice. "James!" Lily screamed, then fumbled Harry into one arm, trying to bring out her own wand. "You've killed him, you-"  
  
"Insults will get you nowhere, Lily," the figure said silkily. "You can still be spared... say my name, Lily, say it and swear to it, and you'll go free..."  
  
"No! Your promises are nothing!" She brought up her wand, tears of rage and grief streaking her face. "*You* are nothing! I will never swear to you!"  
  
"What, never?" The figure sounded amused. "Never? I don't know..." Once again, the mouth curved into a predatory smile. With a nonchalant wave, the figure sent Lily's wand to join James's in the fire, then brought out its own wand and pointed it at the baby, who was now crying loudly. "What about now?"  
  
"NO!" she screamed. "How could you? He's a baby, just a baby, you're a monster-"  
  
"I thought you'd say that," the figure replied in a satisfied sort of tone, then it began chanting spidery words of magic. The tip of the wand began to glow green.  
  
She shook her head, sending coppery-red hair across her eyes. "No, no, please not Harry. Please not Harry! Take me instead! Please, take me, not him!"  
  
The figure paused, seeming to think about it.  
  
"Not Harry!" Lily continued to scream. "Not Harry!" She cast about for her wand, seemingly forgetting it had gone in the fire. The subject of her panic still wailed loudly: he was confused and sleepy, loud things were happening, and his mother had lost her mind.  
  
The figure continued to think, then the green light at the end of its wand flared even brighter. "All right," it said finally. "You. Not the brat." The smile appeared again. "Burn."  
  
Thirty seconds later, baby Harry was lying in a pile of ash, screaming because things hadn't gotten better. He was still confused, still sleepy, and now his mother had vanished. The figure glided over and picked up the baby. "Now, what to do with you."  
  
The baby stilled and looked up at the cowled face of the figure holding him. A new person?  
  
"I could kill you, oh, so easily," the figure crooned almost lovingly. "Any time I wanted, I could break your pathetic neck, burn you to ash like your fool parents... btu I don't think I will." It bounced the baby in its arms in a grotesque parody of affection. "You could be useful, little Potter, little Harry. Very useful..."  
  
Still carrying the baby, the Dark Lord Voldemort left the cottage behind him. Holding the infant in one arm, he used the other to push back the cowl, revealing a face that had once been handsome, but was now shrunken and twisted into near-unrecognizability. "I suppose this makes me a father by default," he said softly, then laughed.   
  
A pale, nervous man fidgeted by the gate, hurrying to open it as his Master approached, then following at the Dark Lord's heels. As he carefully swung shut the gate, Peter Pettigrew looked at the once happy home with tears in his eyes. "Oh, James, Lily... forgive me... I'm so sorry...."  
  
Voldemort turned his head slightly, having caught the remark. "Watch this, my young son," he whispered to Harry. He flicked a hand at Pettigrew. "Burn."  
  
Pettigrew's skin split with eldritch purple fire, consuming his body and reducing him to a pile of ash as it had done to James and Lily before him. Voldemort smiled coldly and continued on his way.  
  
Everything had gone as it should. The future was his, and he saw no way it could ever have been otherwise.  
  
**Continued in Chapter 1  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, they all belong to the great JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them, so please don't sue me. Besides, I'm just a poor student. I have no money.  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 1: Darkness Fallen

Continuity Note: This takes place between fourteen and fifteen years after Alternity 0. Voldemort has taken over England, if not the entire world.   
  
Alternity 1: Darkness Fallen  
by Slytherin Dragon  
  
  
The internment zone lay sprawled in the valley, black and silent, like a grotesque sort of spider. The occasional torch flickered bleakly around the edges of it, but by and large, the only light came from the top of an obsidian tower spiking out of the camp's approximate center, impaling the spider through its belly and giving the entire camp an almost unearthly glow. "That's it. Internment zone number 22," fifteen-year-old Harry Potter announced, dismounting his broom just before the descent into the valley. "Our home away from London for the next month."  
  
"Home away from London," his companion mocked acidly, also dismounting his broom. "Why are we here again?" He didn't give Harry a chance to answer, just continued bitterly, "Oh, yeah. I remember. It's because you felt it necessary to fling Macnair across the room to protest one of his... executive decisions."   
  
Harry snickered. "It was worth it for the look on his face, admit it! And three broken ribs? He'll be laid up for at least a week." He shrugged expressively. "Besides, guard duty at an internment zone isn't that bad. Could be worse."  
  
"I fail to see how." Draco Malfoy glared at Harry briefly, then turned cold gray eyes to the sprawling mess in the valley. He barely suppressed a shudder of revulsion. "Down there for a month, playing watchdog to Mudbloods? Don't try and tell me that's not humiliating!"  
  
"We could be in Azkaban for the month." Harry grinned. "Lighten up, Drake. We're supposed to be young and irresponsible."  
  
"*You* be irresponsible," the pale boy snapped. "I'll be practical. And don't call me that." He sighed. "At least Azkaban doesn't have those... creatures swarming around-"  
  
"I think they're kind of cute. You know, with their little wild magic tricks." Harry produced his wand out of his sleeve, played with it for a moment, then shoved it back. "They're not our equals, of course, but the oddest things do happen around them. Things ought to be interesting, at least." He remounted his broom and began heading towards the internment zone.  
  
"Interesting," repeated Draco blankly, and then he, too, mounted and headed towards the zone. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking!"  
  
"Why?" Harry laughed, then glanced back coyly. "What do you think I'm thinking?"   
  
"Don't. Don't make me say it." They landed at the gates. "You got away with it once, Potter, I don't think you can do it again." A few weeks before, Harry, in a fit of spite (or perhaps just boredom) had set loose a Mudblood from one of the urban internment zones of London. For a Muggle to use magic was against Voldemort's law. For a wizard, even his own son, to release one from internment was a capital crime, punishable by execution or Azkaban.   
  
"*We* got away with it once, Draco. And my name's Harry." He turned to face the other boy with a cold expression. "And we will again if I say we will. We're in this together whether you like it or not. Remember?"  
  
Draco matched Harry stare for stare. "It'll be our heads or life in Azkaban if we're caught by Lord Voldemort, Potter," he hissed. "Have a care for your life for once!"  
  
"It's the same if Father tracks the last one to us." Harry shrugged. "And you've got enough care for our lives for the both of us." He shoved black hair away from his eyes and walked up to terrorize the gate guard into opening the gate.  
  
The pale boy scowled. "That's not my choice, and you know it," he spat under his breath. "So-special Potter... I can't be rid of you, so I have to look out for you, that's all."  
  
Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was one of Lord Voldemort's closest advisors, and years ago had started bringing his young son to "court" (as it was called) with him. Through circumstance more than common feeling, Harry and Draco grew up as... not quite friends, but they tolerated each other's company well enough. Draco shook his head and followed Harry to the gate. He'd helped with the Mudblood's 'escape', albeit reluctantly. The Dark Lord didn't play around, and if Harry had been caught it would have put his head on the block too, regardless of his guilt or lack thereof.  
  
Anything that happened to Harry happened to him, too. Anything Harry did, he was accomplice by association. Draco had learned long before that if he were going to protect himself, he'd have to protect Harry, too. He came up silently alongside the other boy, who was railing at the hapless guard.  
  
"We're supposed to be here, you idiot! Don't you know who we are?" Harry snarled. "We've been sent by the Dark Lord himself to do duty here! Open the damn gate, or I swear I'll turn you inside out!"  
  
"It's after shutdown, my... my lord," the guard stumbled over the title. "I can't."  
  
"You can't," Harry repeated darkly. "Yes, you can. Open the gate, let us in, close the gate. It's not the Animagus Charm!"  
  
"You'd best just obey," Draco drawled lazily, resigned to playing backup. "We can make life miserable for you if you don't."  
  
Harry shot him a quick look of gratitude, than demanded again, "Open the gate. It's the last time I'll tell you."  
  
The guard looked back and forth between them for a bit, then gulped and fumbled around to get the gate open. "Look at that," Harry sniggered under his breath. "He's our age and twice our size, and we can boss him around like nobody's business."  
  
'We' meaning 'I', of course, Draco thought bitterly, but outwardly he smirked. "Watch and learn," he whispered back. Then he lifted his voice. "What's your name?"  
  
"Me, my lord?" The guard shivered and looked around, hoping for someone else to be nearby.  
  
"No, the rock by your left shoe. Of course you!" Draco frowned. "Could you be any denser?"  
  
The guard jerked convulsively, as though he'd been slapped. "I'm Crabbe, my lord." The gate swung open.  
  
Draco waited for Harry to enter first, and nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you," he said finally and hurried to catch up with the other boy.  
  
"What exactly was the point of that little game?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco shrugged. "He'll panic for a while since I can now report him by name. Then he'll calm down when I don't do anything, and be absurdly grateful for it. Finally, when I can pick him out and call him by name without him panicking about Azkaban, I'll have a faithful, obedient pet." He smiled. "Names can be such powerful things."   
  
"Waste of time," Harry proclaimed, looking around the darkened camp. "Maybe we should report him. He didn't even ask why we showed up in the middle of the night instead of during the day tomorrow."  
  
"He's a moron guarding a bunch of wild creatures," Draco sniffed. "He doesn't need brains, just size."   
  
They continued towards the tower in the center of the zone, bickering quietly, unaware that they were being watched.  
  
In the dim light, she couldn't see them too well, so she followed them at a safe distance for a while. Two new guards, she supposed, and they seemed more intelligent than the rest. Not any more tolerable, just smarter. She frowned through a mask of matted brown hair. She'd have to be careful about learning from them; they might actually notice her eavesdropping.   
  
But their arrival meant she could learn more magic, come that much closer to escape and freedom. And then they'd all pay for treating her like an animal instead of like a human being, like the witch she knew she was. Hermione Granger raised the bent stick she used as a wand and muttered, "Lumos."   
  
The tip of the stick glowed faintly, not as much as if it had been a real wand. But it was still magic. Hermione smiled then and felt her way back to her place, where she curled up to sleep for the rest of the night. She was like them, better than them, and soon they'd all know it.  
  
*****  
  
The next day dawned cold and windy. Harry bullied the supervisor of the internment zone into letting him and Draco wander around getting a feel for the place before they actually had to stand duty. Draco stood quietly, as he always did when authority other than his was used. Why work when he didn't have to?  
  
So the two boys meandered through the camp, in and out of the various buildings, looking them over and attracting the stares of the inmates as they looked up from their menial, repetitive work. Most of the stares were despairing, a few confused, many scared, all silent. "Shouldn't be too hard," Harry remarked quietly. "See? The guards don't even watch them. Silly creatures, they could get out on their own."  
  
"Must I remind you that this could get us killed?" Draco answered sharply, also in low tones. "Your merciful tendencies will be the death of us-"  
  
"Oh, hush. We've done this before, remember? It worked then. This one'll be easier, out here in the sticks like this. Now all we have to do is pick one." He chuckled. "There's so many... think we should have a lottery?"  
  
Draco gave up. "The actual escape will be easier, not the follow-up," he hissed quietly enough so that only Harry could hear him. "Last time your Mudblood pet could go to ground in the city. Where will it go here?"  
  
Harry waved a hand dismissively. "That's its problem, not mine."  
  
"It'll be your problem soon enough if the creature tells the guards who let it go when they catch it!"  
  
"Like it'll know who we are." Harry sniffed. "Honestly. This is just something to do to stir things up, like last time. You worry too much, Drake."  
  
"And you don't worry enough." Draco looked around, trying to keep up the pretense of familiarizing himself with the layout of the zone. "They never found the other one, did they?"  
  
"Didn't look very hard, I imagine. Or they blamed it on one of those resistance groups. What's one Mudblood?" Harry didn't bother to look around. He shoved his glasses further up on his nose, attention captured by one of the inmates, a female so filthy and with hair so matted it was impossible to tell how old she was.  
  
Draco shook his head and continued looking around, carefully memorizing the way things were arranged. Harry wanted to play childish games and let loose a few Mudbloods? Fine. As long as they weren't caught doing it, which usually meant he himself would have to do most of the work. Harry couldn't seem to plan his way out a paper bag if his life depended on it. He moved from moment to moment, which was an asset of its own occasionally, but there was no substitute for a solid bit of scheming. "Are we done gawking yet?" he demanded finally. "There's only so long I can stare at the same wall without going out of my mind."  
  
"Yeah... yeah, we're done." Harry turned an about-face so quickly that Draco nearly stumbled trying to follow. "I've got my target," Harry said softly. "You saw that one I was looking at?"  
  
"How could you miss her?" the blond boy replied caustically. "She could be a mobile kitchen garden with the proper seeding."  
  
"Isn't she perfect? Camouflaged already." Harry smirked, did a quick spin to make sure no guards were around and listening. "We can do it soon, Drake. We can do it tonight."  
  
"Not tonight," he replied automatically, then immediately bit his lip. Remarks like that betrayed the fact that he wasn't *entirely* opposed to Harry's insane ideas, that he thought about them and worked them out before being railroaded into helping.  
  
"Oh?" Harry shoved his glasses again and cocked his head. "Why not?"  
  
"Crabbe's not on duty tonight," Draco replied sullenly. "Tomorrow night he is, and we *know* he can be gotten around quite easily."  
  
"Then we'll do it tomorrow night."  
  
"*You'll* do it tomorrow night. I've done enough."  
  
"I said we and I meant we. You're coming along if I have to drag you. I'm not about to give you leverage against me for something this trivial."  
  
Trivial. A capital offense, reduced to "trivial". It was at times like this that Draco wondered why he didn't just get away from Potter, since he seemed so intent on destroying himself and everyone around him. "Fine," he agreed wearily. "Tomorrow night."  
  
Harry beamed. "I knew you'd see it my way," he said cheerfully as they entered the obsidian tower. "Everyone always does."  
  
Hermione watched them go, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she went about her menial chores. That dark one had stared at her, she knew it, but she hadn't been able to hear his conversation with the blond one. He could have merely been proclaiming his superiority over her, but if that was the case, why the whispers and quiet voices? She resolved to watch those two. They were up to something, and she doubted it was anything good for her or anyone else.  
  
*****  
  
The next night and day passed quickly for a number of reasons, depending on who you were. Harry was relaxed and easy, looking forward to his 'adventure' in letting a captive go free and then watching while everyone scrambled to catch it again. Like a sort of fox hunt, but with a magic fox. Draco, by contrast, was a bundle of nervous energy, immediately earning a reputation as the 'neurotic sidekick'. He avoided eye contact, didn't speak unless spoken to, and followed Harry around without protest for once, all the while running his plans over in his mind, making sure there was no possible way to trace the 'escape' back to him or Harry.  
  
Hermione watched them both, carefully and from cover, her mind working quickly to try and discover whatever they were up to, as well as to learn whatever magic they decided to use in their work. Which, much to her disappointment, proved to be none, as they didn't seem to work at all; and their plans stayed known only to themselves.  
  
As soon as evening fell on the appointed day, Harry sneaked out into the complex, with Draco right behind him. "It's not too late to give up on the idea," the pale boy whispered hopefully.  
  
"Shut up and live a little, why don't you? This'll be fun!" He crept stealthily among the barracks-type housings for the Mudbloods for a while, then straightened and looked confused. "Um...."  
  
"Third on your left," Draco snapped. "That's where she is. Honestly, Harry, if you're going to risk death, you could at least have a plan first."  
  
"Right, I knew that." He slipped into the correct housing, motioning for Draco to follow.  
  
Which he did, slipping his wand out of his sleeve just in case. The inside of the building was as ugly as the outside. It was stuffed with bunk beds hardly more than plain shelving large enough o hold a person. Moonlight shone through holes in the roof, and the floor was packed dirt. Sounds of snoring and occasionally of someone moving in their sleep filled the air. Draco repressed a shudder. It was disgusting. "Hurry up," he hissed. "I don't want to be here any longer than necessary."  
  
"Be patient, will you? Ah, here we are." Harry reached one of the bunks and nodded in satisfaction. He took out his own wand and held it in one hand, roughly shaking the female he'd been watching before awake. As soon as hr eyes flew open, he clapped his free hand over her mouth. "Now you listen to me. Do what I say and you won't be hurt. I'm going to take my hand away now. Don't scream. If you do, not only do you die, but so does everyone else here. Understand?"  
  
She nodded. Draco noted with some interest that she didn't appear afraid or intimidated, but rather angry and a little curious. Harry removed his hand and she immediately began speaking. "What do you think you're doing, waking me up like this? I have to work tomorrow, I have to work every day. I've not broken any of the rules, there's no call for private discipline." Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea occurred to her. The anger became more pronounced in her voice. "You sadistic little-"  
  
Harry slapped her lightly, then seized her wrist and hauled her to her feet. "Hold your tongue," he spat. "I've not done anything to you... yet. Follow me." He started out the door, passing Draco, who had been standing lookout.  
  
"Nice people skills, Harry," Draco remarked sarcastically.   
  
Harry's response was to nearly throw the girl at him. "Here. You do better. I'm going to see to the gate." He stormed off, lost quickly to sight in the enveloping darkness.  
  
Draco chuckled. "He's not used to people snapping at him," he explained, not unkindly, beginning to propel her through the zone.   
  
She felt at her face where she'd been slapped. "What's he going to do me?" she asked finally, stumbling over a rock.  
  
"Do to you? He thinks nothing, but I think it's a question for debate, personally." He paused while she regained balance. "What's your name?"  
  
She glared at him, trying to determine whether or not he was subtly mocking her or honestly curious. No one, not even any of her fellow inmates, had ever asked for her name before. His expression was shuttered, so she got no answer. "Hermione," she said finally. "Hermione Granger."  
  
"Astonishing that you remember something like that." He didn't elaborate.  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
"It's better if you don't know that."  
  
"Better for you, you mean."  
  
He shrugged. "I never implied anything else, did I?"   
  
The gate was just ahead. Crabbe was slumped bonelessly against the wall, and Harry stood nearby in a pool of yellow torchlight, twirling his wand with the gate open beside him. "Finally, you two! Did you take the scenic route?"  
  
Hermione gaped at the big guard, then at Harry. "You killed him," she accused stridently. "You killed one of your own-"  
  
"Hush," Draco hissed. "Or you'll have all the others down on our heads. That one's just asleep."  
  
"Yes, just asleep. Well? What are you waiting for?" He gestured at the open gate. "Do you need an engraved invitation, Mudblood? Go."  
  
She pulled back, biting her lip. It was a trick, a trap. It had to be. "Where would I go?' she asked cagily. "They'd only find me again and bring me back."  
  
"That's your problem, not-"  
  
Draco interrupted him. "Go north," he instructed. "There's rumors of a resistance group operating somewhere up there that Lord Voldemort hasn't squashed yet. It's a slim chance, but better than nothing."  
  
Hermione glanced back and forth between them, then suddenly ran out the gate as fast as her legs would carry her. Harry watched her until she was out of sight, then pulled the gate shut and locked it. "There. Like I told you, nothing to worry about, Drake. That was easy."  
  
Draco looked around nervously. "Yeah, it was easy," he agreed, not mentioning that perhaps they'd been assigned someplace with lax security exactly so their loyalty could be tested. Aside from the obvious paranoia, it would only serve to start an argument.  
  
Together, they returned to the obsidian tower and the rest of their month as internment guards.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
